Happy Birthday, Mitzi!

Mitzi turned two yesterday.  Mitzi is my Mitsubishi Outlander.  Although she's only two, she already has 42,000 miles.  Once I bought Mitzi, life shifted into the fast lane.  I wrote a little story about test driving Mitzi and Peter Frampton playing on the radio.  A man named Robbie made a comment about my story in a grief forum.  A couple of weeks later he messaged me.  Now that I know Robbie, I am surprised he ever sent that message!  The story that I shared  with the world ended where Robbie and I got engaged.  The truth is that the engagement started a whirlwind of activity that has only just started to slow down a bit!

Planning a wedding wasn't easy, even as small of an event as we had.  There were only thirty family and close friends invited and the wedding was held at a beautiful nine-bedroom house in Destin, Florida.  It could not have happened without the help of said family and friends and for that we are forever grateful.  The only regret was that both of our fathers were unable to be there.  We loved our ceremony and the fact that both families were able to remember and honor those that we lost while still celebrating with us in our new found happiness. 

We decided, not long after, that moving to the Mississippi Coast would be our goal.  We were still sending wedding thank-yous  as I began filling out job applications.  Once interviews were scheduled, preliminary plans for selling the Texas house began.  Once I got a job, searching for a place to live (with six pets!!!) was difficult.  It began as wanting to rent a house for a year to figure out what we wanted, but soon changed to going ahead and buying a house.  Buying takes a little time, so we had to also find a furnished apartment to rent so that I could start the new job.  I kept a calendar over the summer, using code letters for which house we actually slept in that evening.  There was only one occasion where we spent more than seven nights in one place.  A triangle was carved on the highways from Houston to Jackson to Biloxi.  And Mitzi was the champ that traveled those miles.  She was relieved upon occasion by a Penske truck or two, but she also took her turn pulling "Dino", the 12-foot Uhaul trailer.  Mitzi has taken us on uncertain rides, heard us complain and cry and voice our fears; but Mitzi has also heard our laughter, our hopes, our wonder at the beautiful sunsets and rainbows.  And yes, Mitzi has seen our hugs and kisses along the way.  Just this past Christmas, she traveled, full of presents and wearing reindeer antlers, to bring family - and three dogs - together for the holiday.   

Mitzi turned two yesterday.  She has two dents, but don't we all?  I took her for a full wash and cleaning at Classy Chassis.  She deserved it.

A Fair Catch 10/30/14

I get a little disappointed when my team doesn't try to run the kickoff.  I suppose the special teams players know exactly when they should take that chance and when they should just wave their arm and kneel, knowing they'll get to start from the twenty yard line.  Recently though, I looked at the fair catch from the kickoff returner's point of view.

He was looking high into the sky at the same time that all these enormous beings were rushing toward him with the sole purpose of knocking him flat, if not backward.  Between glances at the ball, which he must catch, he had to judge how many and how close the enormous beings were so that he could know whether to wave his arm casually and kneel down.  At that point, the enormous beings have to rein in their attack and run on past him, not touching him at all.

Robbie and I are engaged.  We first talked about getting married a while ago.  It was an inevitable, perfect progression from messaging, talking, meeting, dating, meeting family members and realizing that we loved each other and didn't want to be alone ever again.  Within that realization was also the clear-cut knowledge of what marriage involves.  Both of us have already successfully navigated richer or poorer,  better or worse, and especially sickness and health. We know what commitment means, and we are committed to each other now.

The engagement was not a surprise to the close family members.  Our parents and children, especially, love us, understand fully, and want us to be happy.  There were a few stirrings that we heard about secondhand.  People like to think that they know what's best in a situation when they have no idea what the situation is actually like.  I look on those individuals as the enormous defensive players bearing down on our situation that we are trying to carefully and happily enact.  To those people:  I wave my arm.  I call a fair catch.  Run on past us and let's start a new drive.  We'll return to the game together.  It may be on the twenty with a long way to go, but we're going to do it together.  I love Robbie and he loves me.  We know what's in store and we're ready.  Watch out - it's going to be a touchdown.

One year, cloudy water and Mother's Day

This was intended to be my final post.  I told myself  "I'll end it at the one year anniversary.  I'll just let it be about the first year of grief."  I tell myself a lot of things that don't happen.  There's a story that is my life and I've chosen to chronicle it here.  It would be unfair to leave it hanging at this point.  I'm wanting to know what happens myself!

Mother's Day morning, the pool water was yellow and cloudy.  Somehow, the cloudy water mirrored my attitude.  Three days prior was the one year mark for Scott's death. It was a day.  Not horrible, not great, just a day.  I called his mom, I called my girls.  I was grateful that the girls did the public, social media "wish you were still here" tribute.  Both were beautiful, and I didn't want to have to do that.

I received one note in the mail before that day.  It was from Maria, my college roommate, who lost her husband the very same way last September.  Maria gets it.  She understands that the date must be acknowledged, but she also knows about Robbie and how I'm feeling hopeful again.  Part of her note said :You can now walk into May 9th and into your next chapter, or rather volume, feeling happy and excited."  I kept that in mind on Friday, May 9th.  I took a breath and carried on, thinking positively.

Friday turned out to be a positive day.  Robbie sent me flowers at work.  That's a big deal.  A beautiful arrangement that was still going strong a week later, and a nice note.  Positive, happy and excited were on the front burner.  Saturday then dawned bright and my mood wasn't even shattered by Gordon getting dirt all over my white linen pants.  Although alone most of the morning, I solved that problem by leisurely shopping and doing errands.  My friend came over in the afternoon, we hit the pool and then saw a movie.  Not too bad.

Mother's Day Sunday, I woke to one nice note, although not from my kids (at that point).  When I looked out the window, I was surprised to see the the pool water had turned a cloudy yellow. I immediately checked chemicals, turned on filters, researched "yellow, cloudy water", scrubbed, emptied, etc. etc.  I then sat back and crossed my fingers. That's what I do with the pool, a lot of the time.  It may have been Mother's Day, but that water was not going to clear itself!  The rest of the day was filled with either visiting or talking with those whom I love.  I was only alone for a portion of the morning.  I did talk to one person that was having their first mother's day without the mom of the family.  As much as I want to reach out, and even though I've experienced almost the very same thing, I don't feel I helped very much.  Some days are just hard.


I don't like not being able to help people and I don't like not being able to help myself.  Thank goodness these "hard days" only last a while.  Time marched on, I've seen Robbie face to face again, and last night my girls came home.....with a Mother's Day present.  The few hours of the cloudy water and being alone have faded away like the cloudy water itself.  All it took to clear the water was two bags of chlorine shock and a little time for filtering.

Most of the past year has been cloudy for me.  I've learned that it is possible for the cloudiness to clear with time.  It took the shock of the fact that life can go on with happiness and the time to filter that fact. It might not be exactly one year, but dismissing the timeline is becoming easier.  Just this past weekend (two weeks after mother's day), the cloudiness started to creep back into the pool. No fair! I thought it was gone! I also thought that grief might disappear with the one year mark. You guessed it. It doesn't. It can be eased, though. Shock and time.  Go away, cloudy days.  I choose the shock of feeling happy and secure once again along with the time that has gone by to banish cloudiness and restore clear vision.

Double Classes and Holding My Breath 4/17/14

Surprise!  The art teacher is sick today and there's no substitute!  "Of course, I'll take those classes.  No problem."  I mean, what choice is there, really?  Somebody has to take the extra group; I have one and PE already has two.  Simple math, the music teacher takes the extra group.

So today, instead of having my usual thirty darlings, I get to control anywhere from fifty to seventy.  Alone.  I've kind of gotten used to alone. Actually, though, that may be changing.

The last time I had to endure double classes, I wrote about taking a breath.  Taking a breath emotionally and letting the realization of  "who I am now" find the cracks in the wall that let happiness shine through like bright summer sun.  I am a little further along that path now.  A journey continues on a daily basis, does it not?  My itinerary has been busy lately.

I have seen the sunshine of happiness and I am now traveling a road of healing.  the care, attention and understanding given to me by Robbie have helped me wake up and realize that joy can be re-discovered in the aftermath of sorrow.  Robbie is traveling the same road, so when we need to take a break and sit on a bench for a while....we do.

Today, although I'm having to monitor double classes, I'm holding my breath - in anticipation.  Robbie, who has kindly traveled the miles to visit me twice already, is visiting again this weekend.  Although we talk very often, it's so much nicer in person. I'm anticipating laughter, serious talk, fun, a little sadness, but mostly a wonderful time.

Even though I had twice the students I usually do today...on the day before a holiday...I can smile on the inside and know that there's someone to listen to me talk about it when I get home. I may be alone in the classroom, but no longer in my spirit. What a difference.  Robbie and I acknowledge our respective tragic pasts and are seeking a happier future.  The sad chapters in our story have come to a close, and some happy chapters are being written.  So talk on, big groups of kids.  I'll hold my breath until 4:00 and enjoy the weekend.